


Resistance Is Futile

by Velvetina_Belle



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-10 23:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velvetina_Belle/pseuds/Velvetina_Belle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has learnt the hard way that saying no to Stiles isn't really an option.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resistance Is Futile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theskywasblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/gifts).



> A short, fluffy piece, which is more pre-slash then slash. My first foray into Teen Wolf fic and I hope that you enjoy! <3
> 
> Also just as a warning this is un-betaed, so please excuse any mistakes. This is what I get for writing at silly o'clock at night.

It was amazing how many new levels of infuriation Derek had found since meeting Stiles. Before, he’d thought that he’d been there, done that and gotten the fucking t-shirt on infuriated. Yet every time he saw the teen, Derek’s blood began to boil and he could feel his wolf start to snap at his mind, clamouring for control. Wanting to show Stiles exactly where a human’s position was in the pack. It’d been years since he’d found someone who could get under his skin quite that easily. Laura was the last person who’d known exactly how to push his buttons.

“Dude, why can’t I come along? You’re letting Scott go.”

An insistent hand tugged at the bottom of Derek’s leather jacket and instinctively he turned with a snarl on his lips, knowing his eyes will be tainted with crimson. It should make those in the pack back down instantly and yet Stiles only stood there with one of those ridiculous expressions on his face that only he could pull off. Pursing his lips Derek searched for an answer and started to open his mouth before changing his mind, all the while Stiles watched him with wide, inquisitive eyes.

Finally he said, “Scott is a werewolf.”

“Scott is an idiot. A well-meaning idiot, but an idiot all the same.” Here Stiles wags one long finger and Derek finds himself watching the digit as it sways through the air aimlessly. “But you aren’t allowed to say that. I am because I’m his best friend. And I guess Allison gets to too, because of the whole they get naked together thing and she has to deal with him quite a lot. Oh, okay, ew. My mind is now fixated on that whole naked thing. Yuck. Right, moving on now! The point is that Scott is an idiot and if he gets to go on your special boot camp then I do too.”

“Do you listen to yourself?” Derek wonders in amazement. Seriously if it was that noisy in Stiles’ head all of the time then surely he’d had a constant headache like anyone else who came into contact with him. Okay, fine, that was a little harsh. A near constant headache.

Stiles crinkled his nose in an exaggerated manner and the shake of his head seemed to turn into a full body movement. “The point is that if I’m going to be constantly dragged into your freaky, werewolf business and be faced with kanimas and basically be the Velma of this operation, then I need to learn how to defend myself. How many times have I been back into a corner and had to wait for one of the Petshop boys to turn up? I mean I’m pretty awesome already, saved your ass a couple of times, thank you very much, but I would feel safer if-”

“If…” Derek gritted out, “I let you come along will you stop talking?”

“For now.”

Considering those words as Stiles looked at him with what only could be described as a shit-eating grin, Derek decided it was simply the easiest option. “Fine, yes, now _go_ away.”

*

And that was how Derek ended up standing on his refurbished porch, watching as Stiles and Scott pulled up in that ridiculous vehicle of his. The rest of the pack had turned up an hour previously, but that was only to be expected since Scott was always running late. The pair bundled out of the jeep, with a ridiculous amount of camping gear. So that was how they were explaining their week-long absence for spring break. 

“Good of you to join us.”

“Yeah,” Stiles dropped his bags, “tell that to Scott who insisted on packing all of his makeup in case Allison turns up.”

“Shut up, bringing lip-balm is not makeup.”

“Close enough!”

The pair continued to bicker good-naturedly, and Derek watched them with something like affection taking root in him. It’d always been there to a certain extent, but now with them about to join in their first pack activity it was becoming even deeper ingrained in him to let himself care. To let himself become that little more vulnerable.

“For god’s sake, would you two idiots just get in here?”

“Sure thing, sour wolf.” Derek makes sure to keep his glower firmly in place until Stiles, and his cocky grin on that wide mouth, had moved past him into the house. Then finally how allowed his own lips to spread into a small smile and something like a chuckle escaped him.

*

It wasn’t hard to see that Stiles was struggling. Two days of training had taken its toll on the human of their pack, despite Derek’s carefully considered training programme. It was lunchtime and whilst the others were gambling round, Stiles was passed out on the sofa. His mouth was open wide, drooling on the soft cover of Derek’s new furniture, and one leg was flung akimbo over the back.

“You lot,” he calls to the others who all immediately perk up, even Scott and Jackson, “it’s time for tag. Last man standing gets a chance to have a one and one fight with me. You have two hours.”

The resulting yelps of excitement were much louder than Derek had expected for that reward and they all filtered out through the front door. He took a moment to wonder exactly how he’d managed to build himself a pack of pups and a human – not to mention the two humans he was bound to pick up soon enough, including a hunter of all things. Shaking off the vague sense of horror – okay, fondness – that that thought had brought to Derek; he moved behind the sofa and stared down at Stiles, tilting is head, considering. The ache of the teen’s muscles was a palpable thing in the air and he was struck by a memory of Stiles that morning on all fours, gasping for breath after having completed his eighth lap of the house, while the wolves were on their twenty-fourth. One thing had been clear, Stiles wasn’t going to give up. He never did, after all. He’d struggled back to his feet and begun to walk the lap, under Derek’s watchful gaze.

His next move would have to be carefully planned. If he nicely told Stiles to relax Derek knew that the contrary sod would instantly rebel. Derek raised an eyebrow and then with a light shrug of ‘why-not’ he then roughly shoved Stiles’ leg so that the teen rolled off the couch in an inelegant tangle of limbs. Resting his forearms on the back of the couch Derek gave his best ‘what-are-you-doing?’ look.

“Wha—I don’t know what just happened.” Stiles glares up at him, suspicion clear of his features. “Did you do this?”

Derek merely stared down at him, and they were caught in a deadlock where neither of them was willing to back down. Eventually, Stiles looked away and Derek found his elevated heart rate highly interesting. The soft groan of pain filtering to his ears makes him move his gaze to where Stiles is rotating his shoulder.

“Something wrong?” Derek asks as innocently as he can manage.

“I think I pulled a muscle.” The resulting grimace at that confession was truly epic, all sorts of muscles moving and contorting.

Taking his moment, Derek moved those few feet to Stiles and pulled him back onto the couch by his good arm. Then before the teen can protest, Derek sat next to him, and pulled off the hideous grey baggy t-shirt Stiles was wearing.

“Oi! I know I’m pretty irresistible, but I’d have thought that you of all people would be able to resist those urges.” Stiles abruptly crossed his arms over his chest, palms of his hands clamped over his nipples, faux modestly. The act was seriously undermined by the way Stiles winked at him.

Not even bothering to roll his eyes at such an obvious push for a reaction Derek quickly positioned Stiles and began to massage his pulled shoulder. A few wiggles later, easily deterred with just a hint of claw on skin, and then Stiles was letting out soft moans that were absolutely not arousing. Trying to take his mind off that potentially disturbing train of thought Derek’s mind began to wander backwards. He’s been young when he’d first learnt to massage properly. Training had been an integral part of his childhood and the subsequent care of muscles was a part of that. His dad had spent hours showing him where best to dig his thumbs in to release a knot, how to keep vertebrae from twisting and how to set off a chain reaction of muscles loosening down a spine.

The movements were so familiar that Derek’s hands were working automatically and he was drawn out of his memories, leaving a bittersweet taste in his mouth, when Stiles relaxed completely against him. One moment everything was following the status quo and then he had a long soft line of Stiles draped onto his chest. Trying to look down only awarded him with a view of soft hair that was a touch longer than when he’d first met the teen, almost long enough now that Derek could run his fingers through it. Said fingers twitched at the thought and the deep breath he took to steady himself didn’t help at all. Rather it served to highlight the growing attraction he’d been sensing from Stiles for the past few months, making it all that harder for him to ignore his own gut instinct, and now his nose told Derek that Stiles had more than come to terms with wanting him. The knowledge took his breath away and his hands stuttered to a halt where they’d still been attempting to continue the massage.

Stiles shifted, turning his cheek onto Derek’s chest, his eyes closed trustingly. “I can practically feel you freaking out up there. Pack it in. Hah, get it? _Pack_ it in.”

“I am not freaking out,” Derek objected before he could snap his mouth shut.

“Yeah, you are, and there’s no need to. I’m a big boy; I can make my own life decisions. Just relax. This was great until you had to go thinking about things.”

Derek considered that, he knew better than most how persistent Stiles could be and that more often than not he’d given in to those demands. He started massaging again, letting his own eyes fall shut as he concentrates on the sound of Stiles’ breathing. It was soothing; like a lullaby he’d forgotten.


End file.
